There’s a packet of maternity pads on the stairs. I’ll take them up later. Later in the week. Or maybe even next week. Or maybe even next year. They will get upstairs one way or another. Maybe I’ll lasso some rope together and devise a pulley system to fling them up and over the bannister where they will develop legs and walk themselves up to the bathroom and slide into the drawer where the maxi pads belong.
Where do I get the rope?
Later in the week. Or maybe even next week. Or maybe next year.
I have always considered myself wildly independent. Not necessarily afraid to ask for help, but I would definitely sort of prefer not to. I don’t see it as a weakness. I am a Taurus. What does that even mean? I just see independence as an opportunity to dig a little deeper and figure things out on my own.
But.
The surrender in allowing the help of others has risen like a phoenix and I am officially the girl who sometimes can’t even open her own water bottle. Don’t panic. I still have two hands. They are just wrapped beneath the small body of a little girl I popped out two and a half weeks ago.
Popped, is probably not the best way to describe it. My mum says it was more of a whale moaning. My partner has used the words primal, raw, powerful and intense. Alas, my two hands are rarely free in unison, would you believe I’m typing with one hand right now? I would still give up all limbs and any other body part for her so I guess one hand is really not that big of a deal.
So how do you lean into the aid of others when you’ve been doing just fine one handed? Or so you think you have.
Well. You begin with accepting that you are going to need many more hands, and making a sandwich is much easier with two. Some people are really good at it. Almost too good. Seamless in their vulnerability. Fearless when it comes to looking a little wobbly. And they always seem so much happier once they’ve given in and said a smooth yes please, I’d love you to do that.
Why then, do some of us struggle to accept it, when ultimately, the result is pure ease, comfort and quite literally, verrrrry helpful?
For me, growing up in a large family and raised by a single mum, we all simply managed to find our own, individual ways to help her out and keep the house sort of in order and our bellies full.
Packing your own lunch and finding a clean school uniform was the way it was from a very young age. My older brothers learned to cook dinner while mum put in the extra hours at work, we all knew how to turn the washing machine on and the dishwasher was eternally full. The emptying could be another discussion….but asking for help felt kind of foreign. We simply didn’t need it. We were all very capable and fiercely determined to make life easier for her. She’s a warrior so we simply followed her lead.
Now, as I sit here with a numb bum from feeding my little girl and the Dyson blinking its green light at me to get dysoning, I have decided to try and make vulnerability sexy again. Make it cool. A new trend to dive into like oat milk or ice baths.
Ok maybe that’s taking it a bit far.
But I am learning to lean into the incredible meal drop offs and nappy changing hands of others. Do not get me wrong. I am not alone. I am far from it. I am ridiculously lucky to have a partner who is the stable, solid, smooth other very equal half of raising our little girl. We pass the baton round the curly bends and laugh louder while she cries because, well, we can’t all cry together.
Can we?
Maybe we should try that tonight.
The beauty in being human is this raw, gutsy, messy stuff that really does shift your perspective on what matters and what is most important. This little girl being fed is now more vital than any session with the washing machine. This little girl sleeping is now the highest priority over said washing machine being emptied and washing being folded.
Wants and needs begin to battle one another, she has exploded any vision I had on what I thought mattered. It is the coolest thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of navigating.
I do however feel like a big baby somedays, crying randomly and wide eyed in awe at the world in my arms. Becoming a mum has blown my mind at how amazing my own mum is, especially now as she helps to care for our latest arrival in a full circle of life. But above all, the tiny little life I’m holding right now is teaching me that letting others in really does smooth things out.
And guess what. The maternity pads got up the stairs. Thankyou Nigel. The laundry was folded. Thankyou Nigel. The world didn’t implode and I didn’t even have to dig deep and ask. Now that’s sexy.
Me, shot on film by Nigel, Parsley Bay.
Lucy you have such a beautiful way of explaining the messiest parts of this very vulnerable, unnerving but ultimately life changing phase of life. I can really relate to leaning in and accepting help. Like you, I grew up with a warrior single mum who did it all for my siblings and I. 🩷❤️
Lean in Luce - your perfect little family deserves the love and support we all want to give ❤️